Page:The Dunciad - Alexander Pope (1743).djvu/131

100 A youth unknown to Phœbus, in despair, Puts his last refuge all in heav'n and pray'r. What force have pious vows! The Queen of Love His sister sends, her vot'ress, from above. As taught by Venus, Paris learnt the art To touch Achilles' only tender part; Secure, thro' her, the noble prize to carry, He marches off, his Grace's Secretary. Now turn to diff'rent sports (the Goddess cries) And learn, my sons, the wond'rous pow'r of Noise. To move, to raise, to ravish ev'ry heart, With Shakespear's nature, or with Johnson's art, Let others aim: 'Tis yours to shake the soul With Thunder rumbling from the mustard bowl,